


Tightly Locked

by orphan_account



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 14:42:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8331691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It's like putting on a character.





	

It's like putting on a character. Simple. It's something he's good at. He's gotten used to the awkward boners, to the embarrassing blushing, to the constant denial. Behind closed and very tightly locked doors, though, it's different. It's so different and so worth it that it makes the constant shame and secrets and infidelity seem like nothing at all. And when they leave those tightly locked rooms, he goes back into character and nothing that just happened, happened.

  
It sucks just a little bit, but he knows it's for the best. It would only hurt their careers, their families, their wives. He's learned to manipulate his actual self to resemble something of his character, and it makes playing it that much easier. Besides, he's always been a gifted actor; something he never gave much thought until it proved to be useful in a way outside of work. He's uses his “talent” every goddamn day to fight himself and what he really wants.

  
When he looks to his left and sees _him_ sitting there, always looking perfect and insanely kissable, he always manages to make himself look away. It isn't easy or something he wants to do, but he knows he has to. Sometimes, he looks at _him_ and thinks that maybe he could give everything up to pursue this whole thing. Maybe he could give up his sense of comfortable normalcy for the things he really wants.

  
But he doesn't and he knows he never will, and there's no chance in hell that _he_ would ever be okay with that. And he's okay with that. Just a taste of it is all he really needs.

  
There are rules they give themselves to portraying their characters. Never in public, never in front of a camera, never at work, never in front of anyone outside themselves. They don't talk about it outside the rooms they lock themselves in. They don't let themselves look at each other, or any other men, _that_ way outside of those rooms. They always lock the door.

  
He absolutely loves those rooms more than anything else. It doesn't matter where they happen to be located. Maybe it's wrong to be so completely excited about something so terrible, but to take the mask off and act on the just awful things he really wants is the best feeling in the entire world. Feeling their characters slip away is the most liberating feeling anyone could have, he’s certain of it. The feeling of their lips crashing together and his hands on _his_ waist is a close second. Seeing _him_ shirtless or naked and looking free, relaxed, and happy is the third. It's a sense of freedom he can hardly put into words.

 

                             ~

 

“We can't keep doing this,” isn't what he wants to hear. _He_ declares it after shoving him away.

  
He manages a small, “What?” He places his hand on _his_ bare shoulder. He wants to pretend _his_ words don't mean what he knows they mean.

  
_He_ pushes his hand away. “Stop. I’m serious.” _His_ tone is harsh and heavy, but _his_ eyes are soft and watery. “This is completely fucked. And you know it, man.”

  
He pauses, staring at _his_ hands tightly gripping the sheets. His heart beats fast and intensely inside his chest. He doesn't want to have this conversation, he doesn't want _this_ to stop. After too long of a pause, he quietly says, “I don't care.” He reaches out and grabs _his_ hand.

  
_He_ yanks _his_ hand away in an exaggerated motion and meets his eyes with an angry look. “We _can't_ keep doing this, Rhett,” he emphasizes. “It's not right.”

  
He shakes his head. “I still don't care,” he takes a deep breath, “I _need_ this. I live for this, man.”

 

_He_ laughs and it's anything but the beautiful sound he's used to, instead it's sarcastic and angry. “You know what I _live_ for?” _He_ makes a point to mock him. “My wife. My kids. My job. It's beyond stupid to throw all that away over some _bullshit_ like this.” _His_ voice cracks on the word bullshit, and he knows that deep down _he_ doesn't want to walk away from this either.

  
He pauses again, looking to find the courage to say the words he's always wanted to say. “We can't always be running away from ourselves, Link.” He knows vocalizing it won't change the way either of them live now. He likes to imagine what everything would be like if he could make the change for himself, leaving _him_ behind stuck in _his_ worthless facade. He could be happy and free and okay with everything. He could learn to throw his dumb character far away from himself. None of that will ever happen, though, and he's okay with that, as long as he has _this_.

  
“I don't care,” _he_ says, _his_ voice predictably full of regret. “I can't…”

  
He reaches out for _his_ hand and _he_ doesn't pull away this time. “We both need this,” he says, gently. He plants a kiss against _his_ knuckle. “No matter how wrong or fucked up this is. I don't care if I have to pretend and hide for the rest of my life. I need it to be okay, at least just in here.”

  
_He_ shakes _his_ head, but doesn't pull away. “We’ll have to stop this eventually.”

  
He nods in agreement, sighing. “I know.” He pauses, trying to put his thoughts into words. “But let's not make it today.”

  
_He_ doesn't respond, staring sadly down at _his_ lap. He decides to make the move and he kisses _his_ neck. He waits to see if _he_ protests or says no, but instead _he_ shifts _his_ weight, pushing _his_ bare chest against his and back onto the bed underneath them. _He_ re-interlocks their fingers and takes a breath. “Can we just lie here for today?” _he_ whispers hopefully.

  
He buries his nose into _his_ hair, nodding lightly. “Yeah,” he mumbles, “definitely.”

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
